Me Ma Supial!

by Ged Maybury

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. They give out stuff called ‘money’. Then you can take it back and swap it for cool stuff.”

  Mica fingered the skin, troubled. “But I really want to give it to Lorikeet.”

  Pumice fingered the skin, “It’s a bronze. They’re Outback lizards.”

  “So the Human might give me a lot of that money stuff?”

  “Could do.”

  “So then I could get something really good for Lorikeet?”

  “Sure could.” Then Pumice’s voice got a little more fatherly, “Except I’m thinking maybe you should just look around a bit more as well. I reckon you need to see a bit more of the world. What do you reckon?”

  Mica thought about it for a moment. “Alright! Let’s go!”

  GOING TO THE COAST was an all-day fast-walk for two young Supials, but Mica and Pumice had started late. The sun was way down in the western trees before they were all the way there. Even so, when they reached the last high ridge before heading down to the flatlands, Pumice called a stop and they climbed a tree to get a better look at the ocean. Mica hadn’t seen it before.

  “Cool!” he cried, “It’s so big! But it’s the wrong colour for water.”

  “You’ve only ever seen rivers,” said Pumice, “but that is always the colour of the ocean, except when the rivers are flooding. In fact its usually even bluer than that.” Pumice gazed at it for a while and then said, “They say the Humans arrived in a huge egg which flew down from the sky under a stiff red cloud and landed in the ocean. Afterwards they dragged the cloud up the beach and rolled it up. Three more eggs came down later. Then the eggs turned into houses.”

  Mica snorted in disbelief.

  “That’s what they say,” said Pumice, “But all that happened way down south,” he pointed, “Past the last village by The Big River. Then the rainy time came and the leech worms came up. Must have sucked them half to death!”

  “Like you say, those Humans are stupid.”

  “Yeah, so anyway they had to move and the people at Big River Village lent them boats and stuff and told them to come up this way. When they finally got to Ocean Village they were in a real mess. Supials had to show them what trees to use for fire, and which ones for houses, and what to eat, and how to dab their leech bites with healy sap....”

  Mica was amazed, “They didn’t know that?”

  “No, they’re a hopeless lot.” Pumice shook his head and went silent.

  Mica perched, half-hanging from his tail, looking at the shimmery sea as the sun set behind him, thinking about everything his brother had told him. It was going to be a strange place, down there on the coast, and the Humans were going to be the strangest thing of all.

  THE MOON HAD A NEWIE in her pouch, just a few days old. So she went to bed early and left Mica and Pumice travelling in the dark. But the way was easy enough, down a wide footpath between fields and banana groves. This was busy land, full of little villages and well trodden by Supial feet. They came to one such village, a scattering of houses amongst the trees, and could see the faint light of cooking fires within. Except one. It was lit up by something far brighter. Mica had never seen such a bright fire at night. They both stopped, looking at the house.

  “Is it on fire?” asked Mica.

  Pumice was just as puzzled, “No. Maybe they’re burning petrol-tree oil for extra light, or something.”

  “I’m hungry,” said Mica as they caught the smell of food on the breeze, “Why don’t we go on up and say hello?” He was also really curious about that light.

  Pumice was curious too. “Yeah, why not?”

  They went up the ladder, calling, “Yo-oo? Is this a Woman’s House? Can we come in if it ain’t?”

  A Supial appeared at the door. “This is a Clan House but you’re welcome in, strangers. Who are you though, and where’re you from?”

  They told him.

  “Well I’m Jumbuck, the House Chief. Come on up. You want food?”

  “Oh yes!”

  They went up, still curious about the bright light. Mica peered in the doorway, nearly dazzled by the light that came off a little thing hanging from the centre pole. Then he saw what was so special going on. There was a Human in the house!

  “Is it the Her?” whispered Mica to Pumice, looking at the Human hopefully.

  “No,” whispered back Pumice, “it’s a male. See? Less hair on its head. That’s how you can tell.”

  This new Human was surrounded by Supials, talking mostly about plants and their uses. Now and again he did something peculiar, pausing to speak Human-talk into a little black thing that looked like a dum-dum pod. He asked to have a piece of tree bark that an Oldie was talking about. The Oldie obliged and the Human put the piece into a little keeping-jar he had with him. Mica marvelled at the jar for it was made of some impossibly thin stuff.

  Meanwhile Mica and Pumice squatted at the edge of this group talking softly to the House Chief about where they were going and why, and where they came from, and who their village elders were, and so on. All so normal, eating and talking, but with that strange Human only five steps away, under that powerful light that made the house seem so different.

  Finally Pumice asked about the Human.

  “Oh, he’s called ‘Judkins’. He comes here sometimes, often after dark. Seems to be a cool dude. Always asking and learning.” The House Chief chuckled, “The Humans, you know, are pretty weird things. Seems they know just about nothing about the World. It’s like they were all born yesterday. Go figure, eh!”

  “Is it far now to Ocean Village?” asked Mica.

  “Oh not so much. Just a good step on. But hey it’s night-time, dudes. Moon’s gone to bed now. Why don’t you stay?”

  Pumice looked around politely, “You all full up. It’s cool. We can go on.”

  “We’ve got room! Plenty of room!”

  This was the normal way. Polite and proper.

  Just then the Human got up like he suddenly realised it was late and too dark outside to travel. He reached up and took down his light-maker, twisted it somehow, and the light was suddenly pointing in a straight line instead of all around. He made his farewells, thanking the Elders in the room, but not the House Chief, then went out and started down the ladder, wobbling clumsily. Mica felt sorry for him. At the foot of the ladder the Human waved his light about, looking for the pathway out.

  “Hey,” said Pumice to Mica suddenly, “he’s going our way. Let’s follow him!” Before Mica could stop him, Pumice scuttled down the ladder, calling a quick thanks back to the House Chief. Mica glanced back regretfully at the comfort of the house and went after his big brother. The Human had already set off, so they would have to be quick.

  IT WAS A LONG WALK through the night, first through strangers’ gardens where lowland plants grew, then deeper into a new kind of forest, and all the time a strange-smelling breeze pushing into Mica’s face. He wondered if it was the smell of the sea.

  It was very odd, travelling by the Human’s light. It lit up the trees from underneath in a way that Mica had never seen before, first one tree, then the next, on and on. It was scary and Mica stuck close to his big brother. Now and then the eyes of a forest creature would light up like a pair of coloured stars. These eyes would blink, then the animal would scuttle noisily away. Judkins the Human seemed nervous, jumping sometimes at a sound but at other times stopping awhile to look at some bug or leaf. Mica and Pumice would stop too, waiting silently, moving on again as Judkins moved on. The Human thought he was alone, and neither Mica nor Pumice wanted him to think any different.

  Finally they saw some lights ahead; Human lights. The trees thinned away as they got nearer. Judkins the Human seemed to be moving with great caution. He had made his light go very dim, and had it pointing straight at the ground. He was crossing a vegetable garden, but a very strange one indeed. Everything grew in straight lines, and the dirt showed everywhere. Very strange plants they were too. Ahead was a very long house, or so Mica thought at f
irst, for what else could it be? But it had no roof. It was too low for a house. In fact it was a continuous, straight, precise wall.

  In the middle of this wall lurked something very strange, with one eye green and the other eye red. The Human put out his light altogether, took something off his belt, and raised it in his hand. The red eye winked out and a fire-coloured eye blinked in its place. Something went clunk inside the wall and a gap appeared against the faint lights beyond. Judkins pushed, and a square of wall opened. It was a gate.

  And as the Human went in they heard a voice, a female voice, speaking in a hoarse whisper, “Is that you, Judkins?” It was speaking Supial but sounded wrong.

  They saw Judkins hesitate beyond the opening, looking to the left. “Kynn?” he whispered into the dark, “Why you talk Supial?”

  “D'know. Afraid not was you, maybe?”

  “What got done here?”

  “He done to me!” whimpered the voice, “Like he say!” The female voice lapsed into Human speech after that, whispering and sobbing.

  Mica couldn’t understand the words but he could understood the feelings. The female one was very upset and it seemed to wrench at his heart.

  Judkins had moved away, out of sight towards the voice, leaving the gate open. Mica took Pumice’s hand and moved forwards, silently through the gateway, drawn by his urge to somehow help the female. In the slight light coming from the nearby Human buildings he could see a very small house, up on little poles like a proper house should be, and Judkins was standing right beside it. The whispering continued.

  Mica listened to the tones and the rhythms of their talk, and he could almost follow what was going on. She, inside the tiny house, was very unhappy, like she didn’t want to be in there. He, on the outside, sounded angry, maybe with her, but sometimes with someone else too for he would look away towards the Human houses as he spoke. But he was not being much help to her.

  “No,” he kept saying, “I can’t. I mustn’t.” Mica understood that well enough.

  Finally Judkins moved off, agitated, his strange keeping-jars clattering together as he went, talking back at her in a strong angry whisper.

  It was all very distressing. Mica wanted to cry out aloud, let off his own feelings of agitation and anger and grief that someone should be in a box, and be asking, and not getting!

  Then he had a really exciting scary idea: that maybe it was her in there; the female Human he had seen two days ago in his own village.

  Judkins disappeared between the buildings. A light went on, then off. They heard voices away over, agitation again, anger and frustration, all very squashed down like people do when other people are asleep.

  Then quiet.

  Mica, still holding his brother’s hand, went closer to the box. The Human was crying inside. He wanted to do something.

  “Yo, Human?” he whispered, “You’re not okay, dudettie?”

  The crying stopped abruptly. He could see her eyes peering out through the smooth poles that made up the front of the little house. And she had red hair just like the Human he had seen in his village.

  “Who are you?” she whispered, “Are you Supials?” She had spoken in Supial speech, but Mica did not think this was so strange.

  “Aye. This my brother Pumice, and I'm Mica,” he said it very proudly, “from Far End Village!”

  “Shh! Shh!” she said, again in that terrified voice, full of trouble and anger and fear, “Please be quieter!”

  Mica’s eyes filled with tears at the sound of it. “You’re not happy!” he told her, “So I’m not happy too.”

  Her strange furless hand came out, reaching for his. And she began that gut-wrenching crying again. It was total now, all-of-her-crying. On and on. They both held her hand, stroking her strange smooth skin, murmuring like they would to anyone having a cry. It was almost possible to forget she was a Human. It was almost like she was a Supial inside. Mica cried too.

  It was this that seemed to stop her, as if it was so surprising to her – a Supial crying just because she was – that it bumped her right out of her grief. It wasn’t odd to Mica, though. He always joined in for a good cry.

  “How’d you get in?’ she asked, wiping at her face with dirty hands and peering anxiously towards the buildings nearby, as if afraid of waking someone. They pointed to the open gate. “Judkins,” she said like an exasperated parent, “He’s done it again.” It was in Human speech, but the two dudes understood it well enough.

  “We’ll go now.” Pumice said suddenly, looking worried. He was tugging at Mica’s hand.

  “No, no!” she whispered to him, “Please stay. Um,” (she had to stop and think of the words) “can you... will you...” (then as if it was the biggest thing ever to ask) “please, can you get me some water?”

  “Sure!” said Mica at once, although he had no idea where to get any.

  “Over there,” she pointed, “you’ll find a ...” then she stopped, searching for the words again, “ummm, ‘pipe’ like this,” she stroked the sticks of her door, “it comes out of the wall, um, you take the top end, the ‘tap’, and twist it, like this,” she made a hand movement. Mica carefully copied it. “That building there.” Her arm came all the way out, one finger stiff. Mica laid his head down on her arm, noticing the smell of her, very strong, and sighted along it. Then she gave him her drinking jar and he set off, marvelling at how light-weight and thin it was, and ignoring Pumice’s agitation behind him.

  The village of the Humans was strange. No trees. No chookies. The houses were all so pathetic, stuck down on the ground. Poor Humans, thought Mica, they didn’t have enough poles.

  He approached the house she had pointed to. It was a funny looking thing, flat on top, and made of the strangest stuff. Underneath lurked dark shapes, some with those same green and red eyes in them, like in the wall. Nervously he began looking around for the thing called ‘pipe’. Finally he saw it. It had something on the top end like she had described; the ‘tap’? Yes.

  Mica put his hand on it and did the action.

  Nothing. He looked closer, seeing it had a hole underneath. He sniffed. A strange smell like the taste of steel (he knew this taste because he used to lick at the steel plate inside his dangle-pouch). He tried the twisting action again and suddenly the top of the tap moved. Water came out!

  He filled the jar, and still the water came out. “Stop now,” he told it, “I have enough.” But it didn’t stop. Stupid thing.

  So if twisting started it, more twisting should stop it.

  More water came out! Faster and stronger.

  Another twist and then he had it figured. The twisty bit moved up. He had to get it back down. With a little experimentation he got the water to slow down, and then stop altogether. Amazing!

  He took the water back. The human drank it all. Without being asked he hurried away to fill it again. This second lot she put away carefully inside her house.

  Mica peered into her house. It was way too small. She could not even stand up. There was no bed. These humans were so strange!

  “You must go now,” she was saying, “You mustn’t get caught here! He would be so angry!” Pumice was glad to be going, but Mica wanted to stay. “Please go,” she said to him in that quivery voice he had heard earlier, “but I am glad you came. You are both Very Good Dudes.”

  It sounded funny, but they understood.

  “And close the gate. Just pull it shut as you go.”

  Mica, with tears in his eyes, held her hand one more time and peered into her lovely eyes. He did not want to go. But he would, because he knew she was so worried about him being there.

  Pumice was tugging at him, wanting to go.

  “Goodbye,” she said.

  “Goodbye, uh...?”

  “I am Kynn. Kynn Wheeler.”

  It was the same one!

  “Hello Kynn Wheeler!” he said brightly, then added at once, sadly, “Goodbye Kynn Wheeler.”

  MICA HURRIED AWAY WITH his brother, out through the roofless
wall, pulling the gate-piece back into its place. It joined itself into the wall with a quiet click. The winking orange eye turned red. Pumice tugged him onwards, towards the nearby forest.

  “Do you know the way?” asked Mica, looking ahead at the darkness.

  “No, but I don’t like this place.”

  Mica looked around and spied a little hut. “Let’s just sleep in there.”

  It was a gardening shed. There were a few tools in there, strange Human things, but little else. Grudgingly Pumice accepted the compromise, and they settled in for the night.

  “Good thing anyway,” admitted Pumice as he lay looking up at the stars through slow-moving cloud, “I don’t know where Feldspar lives anyway.”

  THEY SLEPT BADLY. At the first hint of day they hurried away and soon found a footpath to Ocean Village. They tracked down Feldspar, had some breakfast, and borrowed a bed for the rest of the morning. And all the time Mica was remembering the Human female. How she smelled. The touch of her skin. How much like a Supial’s were her hands and her face and her eyes. And her strange little house. Why did she live there if it made her so unhappy? Why?

  PUNISHMENT

  IT WAS APPALLINGLY hot. The metal walls and roof of Kynn’s prison were like oven plates. She lay on the floor, glad that it was made of timber, and looked out across the compound. Occasionally someone could be seen hurrying between the buildings. She knew that they knew she was there, yet nobody looked her way.

  At first it filled her with anger. But as the heat intensified she could not find the energy to care any more. Let them go, the pathetic cowards.

  Then the anger would slam back. How could they have done this? How could they have helped my father to do this!

  Easy. They feared him, and he had chosen them for that very reason. Pastor Wheeler knew how they worked. He knew how much he could get from them. She had watched him, day after day on the mother-ship, going over the manifests, choosing the first wave of colonists. Then he had ordered Doctor Kei Nam to set the defrosters running. He put on his preacher’s robes and welcomed them up personally, told them what the plan was, and then dropped them right in it.